


lost people

by Star_less



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Complete, Crying, Everything Hurts, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt, Loss, One Shot, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Poor Peter Parker, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sad, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Spider-Man: Far From Home Trailer, the OP enjoys pain and also crying why did I do this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 08:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18735214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_less/pseuds/Star_less
Summary: “The world has you and you’re…” Tony let out a soft sigh; not a regretful sigh but one that was full of admiration. Then a nod, no hesitation in it. “…you’re doing a great job. Of course you are, you were taught by the best.”Post-Endgame. Tony has a message for Peter, and Peter listens.





	lost people

**Author's Note:**

> **SPOILERS for Avengers Endgame ahead. Watched the Far from Home trailer, was inspired to write this. Yes I did cry while writing it. Oh the pain and suffering.**
> 
> EDIT also uhhhhhh yo yeh I am new to this whole multiverse idea so can we pretend it doesn’t exist yet. Thanks.

“He, ah. He told me to give you these.”

Happy’s voice was slow and on as much of an even keel as he could make it, but Peter could still detect the little quiver in his breath. It made his own heart feel… feel… funny. Peter couldn’t describe it any more articulately; just… ‘funny’. Like his heart felt full and empty at the same time.  
Peter brought his gaze down to the rubber caps of his Converse, sniffled. “You listened to it?”

Tony had left messages, in the event of… this… happening. Messages for Pepper and Morgan and Happy and… Peter. Pepper had listened to hers as soon as the funeral was over. Like tearing off a bandaid, she said. If she didn’t listen to it now she never would. Peter understood that logic, of course he did, but he wished he didn’t. He hadn’t listened at all to the message Mr. Stark had left him because he was worried he was going to cry. Aunt May had said crying was okay, and Pepper had said that crying was okay too, but Peter…  
Peter was sick of crying, of crying over lost people.  
Until today. Until Happy. Happy had promised that they could listen to their messages together if that was what he wanted, and here they were, huddled together in Peter’s bedroom. Peter had wanted to stay with Happy while he listened to the message but the second he moved to activate the hologram his breath caught in his throat and his eyes got wet. “Don’t, don’t- not here, I- I need to—I can’t, Happy. You-"—Snnff—“-listen, you listen and then I’ll come back.”

Happy had almost hesitated again; not entirely sure he was comfortable with this arrangement--but grief dug its claws into you in odd ways and, well, Peter had insisted and already fled off to his bedroom… so Happy sat and dutifully listened to the message Stark had left him.  
He listened, and he did what Stark told him to do, and then he found himself returning to the kid’s bedroom once more. 

“I did listen, kiddo.” He set himself down on the kid’s bed and soaked in the silence. There wasn’t much to say. After a handful of minutes in the silence, Happy cleared his throat. “He told me to give you these.”

Glasses. 

Palm outstretched, Happy nudged Peter to take them. “Glasses?” Peter asked and Happy almost laughed at how dumbfounded the kid sounded. “Yeah. That was what I thought when I found them.” He sniffed. “Think they were one of his favourite sets. Wanted you to have them.”

Peter clumsily put the frames to his face, blinking to adjust behind the large lenses and marvelling, for a moment, at his reflection in the nearby mirror. “I- I dunno, I don’t think they’re my… thing.” He giggled nervously, pushing the glasses up tighter from where they were sliding down the bridge of his nose. 

“Wanted you to wear them.” Happy added insistently with a quiet chuckle at the mini Stark sat next to him. “Properly, y’know, not like…” he gestured weakly to Peter. “Not like this. I think he said to wear them, ‘carry on his legacy’. You know what he’s like.”

Peter took the glasses off of his face and looked down at them now neatly folded in his lap, nodding with a sniff. “Thanks, Happy.”  
He shook his head. “I- I can’t. Not yet. I will, but I can’t. Not now.” Both Peter and Happy knew the deeper meaning behind that one. Happy simply nodded, squeezed his shoulder, and again they sat in the quiet. 

“…when I do, you’ll.. you’ll be there, right? I- I can call you, I’ll..”

Happy cut him off, nodding. “I’ll be there.”  
~

It was one of his favourite spots. Not particularly remarkable, just a calm rooftop with a good view, a couple of nosy pigeons. Someone had painted the wall of one of the buildings nearby with a mural of Iron Man, and someone else had come along and painted Mr. Stark’s features carefully over the top. Everybody used it as some sort of mini vigil for the fallen hero – Peter included – although Peter partly supposed he went there out of habit since he would park himself on that rooftop and nibble on a hot dog long, long before Mr. Stark…

Before he…

Before he was gone, anyway.

Now-- now Peter liked to come here and swing his legs and… well, sometimes he’d talk to the mural. From this distance, no one could hear so… so sometimes it just felt like he was chattering away to Mr. Stark before he finished patrol. Other times it was quiet and he just drank in the sleepy atmosphere of the civilians going about their day to day life as if they hadn’t lost their Mr. Stark like Peter had.  
Even Happy – who, yes, he had successfully dragged with him – could see the appeal of the sleepy spot. It was peaceful.  
~

“You ready?” he asked at long last.

Peter looked at Happy for a long moment and nodded, mouth thinning in determination. 

Happy stepped back. Regardless of whether the kid wanted him here or not, it soothed his soul to give him at least some semblance of privacy. 

Peter slid on the glasses. 

Nothing happened for a short while, but then his eyes adjusted to a cool blue sheen lighting up the frames and slowly – ever so slowly – Tony Stark edging into his view.

“Hey, kid.”  
Tony straightened out. He was wearing the glasses that he had given to Peter and stood as crisp and as smart as ever, cracking a dazzled smile that—despite everything—made Peter smile too – smile and relax bonelessly even if it was just for a moment. This was the Stark he remembered. This was the voice he had missed hearing so much.  
“If you’re seeing this then… unfortunately for the world, I’ve kicked it. Shuffled off this mortal coil, whatever.” Tony shrugged, frowning slightly. Clearly mulling over the correct way to bring up the concept of his own death to a kid… or having some trouble talking about such a thing when death was by no means imminent. Hearing those words tugged Peter away from where he was quietly relishing having his Mr. Stark back and a little whimper tugged its way up from the back of his throat. God, he wished Tony would just… just give him a hug or something. Not that Mr. Stark was much of a hugger, but…  
He turned his attention back to Tony before his vision got too tearful to keep watching.  
“But fortunately, kid, the world has you.”  
Tony's voice was full of sincerity, firm and proud as it danced and twirled in Peter’s ears. “The world has you and you’re…” Tony let out a soft sigh; not a regretful sigh but one that was full of admiration. Then a nod, no hesitation in it. “…you’re doing a great job. Of course you are, you were taught by the best.”  
He winked at this point and Peter laughed even though it wasn’t particularly funny, laughed until it rolled into a sob and his eyes grew wet once more. Still he didn’t cry. “Gotta carry on my legacy somehow, kiddo. That’s why I gave you the glasses. Or at least I told Happy to give you them. If he hasn’t… you’ve got my full express permission to bug him about it. If he hasn’t, that means he hasn’t watched the message I left him, and he should.” Tony scoffed softly. He shook his head. “…nah. You’re doing great kiddo, better than I could have ever hoped for. I’m proud. Real proud. And if… if you ever want to hear this again… if you ever want to hear me again… I’m here. In these glasses. Button on the side.” He took the glasses off of his face, waved them a little closer to Peter’s, showed him the tiny indentation on the left arm. “Press it and… voila. I mean, if you wanna wear them to go, I dunno, read a science textbook or go to a party or something then…” He pressed the button again. “Shut me up. Press of a button. Jeez. Bet you wish I’d shown you this when I was bugging you about your patrolling, right? Yeah. Bet Pepper wishes I had an off switch sometimes too.” He cracked another ridiculous little smile and Peter snivelled in response to it. No. No she definitely did not. 

It went quiet, then, and Peter’s breathing picked up in his already tight chest because no, no he—he can’t go, not yet, not now—even though the cool blue of the projection hadn’t yet faded from the lenses. Tears pearled up in the corners of his eyes and his face went all wet and hot and all these tiny hiccuppy sobs are edging from his mouth even though Tony was there, right there again where he should be. Somewhere in between Peter’s cries, he heard Tony offer a soft, “Love you, kid,” but by that point the tears were dripping down his cheeks from behind the lenses too hard and too fast for Peter to pay attention. His vision was too jarred to notice Tony’s hesitation and the soft, “Love you 3000,” that came shortly afterwards.  
Then the blue light faded and the projection disappeared, leaving Peter crying in a pair of Tony Stark’s best glasses while stood on a rooftop. Crying too hard to truly register Happy stepping forward and nudging him into a hug, or the fact that he’s getting snot and tears all over Happy’s jacket, or the soft, small, ‘hey, I’ve got you’s’ coming from Happy’s mouth.

They stayed like this for what felt like an eternity – Peter crying, Happy crying, until the pair are decidedly cried out. Peter was first to pull away, embarrassment crawling up his spine. “Got snot on your jacket,” He mumbled in a faintly hysterical voice once he was sure he could speak without breaking down all over again. 

“Forget it, kid. Can get it dry cleaned.” Happy sniffed, rubbing his red-rimmed eyes and shaking his head insistently. “How was your chat?”

Peter knew there was no way to answer that question. Happy knew that Peter knew. Still, he surprised himself by nodding. Yeah. It… was good. Cathartic. Felt like he had cried enough to fill up the hole in his heart, at least. “Mr. Stark said I had to carry on his legacy.” He sniffed. 

Happy nodded down at him. “You look good, kiddo. Glasses. They suit you.” He offered, as the two silently looked out over the rooftop. 

It was quiet. 

“What kinda things do I have to do to carry on a legacy, Happy?” Peter mumbled out to the skyline, squirming slightly. Carrying on a legacy sounded like a lot of pressure.  
“Hm. Mr. Stark sort of things, I suppose.” Happy shrugged.  
“Like..?”  
“Drive around. Live solely off of laboratory fumes and coffee. Eat cheeseburgers.” 

Peter giggled at the last one, and his tummy rumbled softly as if to remind Peter of its presence.  
“I like cheeseburgers.” He hinted. 

Happy chuckled, voice gently teasing. “Go get one, kiddo. Start living his legacy.” 

Peter nodded for a moment, and went off to do just that.

**Author's Note:**

> This is me refusing to believe Tony Stark is g*ne like they really Did That  
> I watched the FFH trailer n I was all ooooh yeah he's gonna jump up like SURPRISE I LIVED BITCH
> 
> sob sob sob sob
> 
> I love pain and also crying and im dragging you with me
> 
> sob sob sob


End file.
